


No.19 Sleep Deprivation

by LiGi



Series: Febuwhump 2021 [19]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Caring Gwaine (Merlin), FebuWhump2021, Gen, Hurt Elyan (Merlin), Hurt Lancelot (Merlin), Hurt Percival (Merlin), Protective Lancelot (Merlin), Sleep Deprivation, Tired Lancelot (Merlin), no19
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:07:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29593257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiGi/pseuds/LiGi
Summary: Febuwhump2021 day 19 - Sleep DeprivationPercival and Elyan have both been injured by bandits, Lancelot needs to stay awake to keep watch over them until help comes.
Relationships: Elyan & Lancelot (Merlin), Gwaine & Lancelot (Merlin), Lancelot & Percival (Merlin)
Series: Febuwhump 2021 [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2137632
Comments: 2
Kudos: 31





	No.19 Sleep Deprivation

**Author's Note:**

> Betaed by the fantastic Onehelluvapilot!
> 
> I am officially running one day behind now! AHHHH!

Lancelot’s jaw cracked as he yawned, but he shook his head and carried on. He was walking circles around the campsite in an effort to keep himself awake. He had to stay awake.

It had been two days since the bandits had attacked their camp and injured Percival and Elyan. And Lancelot was now stuck; he couldn’t leave his friends alone to go and get help, but he also couldn’t get them back to Camelot. Had it been just Elyan, Lancelot would have carried him, no matter the distance. But there was no way he could carry Percival as well. And neither of them had been conscious long enough for Lancelot to try and get them to walk themselves.

Lancelot gathered fallen branches as he walked, dragging them behind him as he made his way back to their small campfire. Elyan had been shivering terribly, even under his and Lancelot’s cloaks, and the small fire was not making enough heat to warm the cold knight. It needed bigger logs.

Letting the thick branch fall to the ground beside the fire, Lancelot picked up Elyan’s hand axe from beside the curled up bundle of cloaks that was the other knight. He lifted the corner of the cloaks and checked Elyan’s breathing. Still laboured and shallow, his teeth chattering. Lancelot frowned. He needed to build up the fire quickly.

He began chopping the branch into logs, ignoring the way his grip on the axe faltered with every swing. He had to use all of his concentration just to squint at the wood, which seemed to shift before him, his tired eyes unable to focus on it properly. His shoulders ached and his arms were trembling with fatigue but he kept going, rhythmically chopping. After several long minutes he had a pile of hacked up chunks of wood small enough to use. He dragged them closer to the fire.

It had burnt down a little while he was chopping and he knelt to coax it back up while feeding the fresh logs in. It crackled and popped as the flames licked over the new wood and the warmth washed over Lancelot like a blanket.

He sat back on his heels and yawned. The warmth and soft flickering light were pulling at the exhaustion in his mind, the comforting crackling sound lulling him gently. His head drooped to his chest, his heavy eyelids sliding closed.

He caught himself just before he fell entirely asleep, wrenching his mind back to consciousness. He slapped himself hard on the cheek, and again when the spike of pain overrode the drifting fog of sleep. He was so tired.

He hadn’t slept at all since the bandits had attacked. He couldn’t afford to. He had to keep watch over his injured friends, had to stay alert for more danger. More bandits could show up at any point.

Scrubbing his hands over his dry eyes, he stacked a few more logs onto the fire then stood up. Sitting down was too risky; he could not let himself surrender to the comfort. He swayed, only just catching himself as his knees buckled. He forced his legs straight and stomped his feet to get his worn out muscles moving again.

Gently laying a hand on Elyan’s head, pulling the cloak tighter around his shoulders, he murmured a quick prayer to any god that was listening. Then leant down over Percival and did the same. He checked the swathes of cloth over Percival’s torso and arm, ripped from his shirt to bandage the extensive wounds across the large knight’s chest. Lancelot had stuffed the bandages with sage and the overwhelming smell of the herb wormed its way into his drowsy mind, trying to pull him under.

Shaking his head firmly to clear it, he stumbled away from Percival.

There was a small stream down a ridge from where Lancelot had set up their camp. He tripped on wobbly legs down to the water, glancing over his shoulder every few seconds to keep an eye on the other two knights. The water was freezing and Lancelot scooped a large handful of it up to his lips, the chill of it sending a shiver down his back as the icy water slid down his throat. It helped a bit.

Plunging both hands into the stream, he splashed a handful over his face. He gasped but it cleared his head and he did it again. Once his eyes had stopped drooping, he raked his fingers through his hair, pushing the floppy dirty curls back from his forehead.

Taking one last gulp of water, he pushed himself to his feet, holding a tree for stability. He could feel his head spinning and took a deep breath to focus himself.

A snap of twigs breaking made him whip his head around. Someone was sneaking up on them. He drew his sword, trying to make his hand grip it properly but his fingers wouldn’t respond to his request, curling loosely around the sword hilt. He crouched and crept back towards the camp.

His heart leapt, hammering against his ribs and bringing him more awake than he had been all day; several people were leaning over Percival.

With a ragged cry, Lancelot dashed forwards. His feet thudding against the forest floor as one of the figures rose and came towards him. He raised his sword, readying it for a fierce swing down towards the intruder, whose features he was slowly recognising as familiar. But it took too long for his sleep deprived mind to realise who it was and he didn’t manage to pull his swing fast enough. His arm jarred painfully as his sword met Leon’s, the latter having hastily brought his up to block Lancelot’s blow.

“Lancelot!” Leon sounded worried.

“No! Percival…” Lancelot pushed Leon aside, staggering back towards the injured knights. He couldn’t make his gaze focus on the person leaning over Percival, his mind zoning in on the hands pulling his bandages off.

“Hey, Lancelot?” another voice sounded right by his ear, gruff and warm, and a hand landed on his back. He tried to twist away.

Voices, indiscernible to Lancelot, spoke either side of him. Leon and… Gwaine, who he noticed when he turned to grab the hand on his back. He nearly fell and Gwaine caught him. Rushing noise was filling his head and before he knew what was happening he found himself sitting down with a blanket being pulled over his shoulders. He tried to push Gwaine away weakly.

“No… Percival, Elyan…” he muttered, his shaking hand lifting to gesture towards the injured knights. Leon had gone from his side now, going to kneel beside Elyan as well.

“Merlin’s with them.” It took a long time for Gwaine’s words to make sense, and Lancelot had already started fighting to get back to them before he realised what had been said. “Lancelot. Sit down.” Gwaine pulled him down, his arm over Lancelot’s shoulders holding him still. Lancelot felt too weak to get away from him.

“Can’t sit… don’t wanna sleep…” he argued, slapping himself in the face again when his eyes drooped. Gwaine grabbed his hand.

“Stop it. You can sleep now.”

“No!” Lancelot struggled fruitlessly. “Gotta stay awake. Gotta keep watch…”

“No, you don’t. It’s alright.” Gwaine’s words were slow, deep and reassuring. They wove into Lancelot’s sleepy mind like a mantra, lulling him under. “We’re here now. They’re safe. Merlin, Arthur and Leon are looking after them.”

Eventually Lancelot stopped fighting. He let the fatigue of the last few days crush him and dropped against Gwaine’s side, blackness swarming into his mind.

**Author's Note:**

> I love any and all comments!


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